Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Not-Talkin'-'bout-Gettin'-Old Mood

PAD Challenge day 28: For today’s prompt, write a mood poem. Your poem could set the mood. Or it could be about a mood. Maybe display someone in a mood, whether that’s mad, sad, happy, or some other mood.




Gray broods above woodland and field
That showcased green and gold
It moans in undertones that wield
The ways and means of days that yield
To Bygone’s boundless hold
The bare bones of the tree revealed
Where leaf had spun a winsome shield
Before the cold,
The bitter cold

No bare feet dance across the yard
No bloom breaks budded cage
Time hangs a sentimental card
Above earth’s jilted boulevard
Gilded with silvered sage
To taunt the tempo-stricken bard
With rhythms dashed, now soft, now hard
Against a page
A begging page

A solemn reverence consumes
Thought’s once-quite-carefree cast
Where tender turbulence of blooms
Of perfumed pink and purple plumes
Of green-leaf’s lowered mast
Melts poetry across the tombs
Of summer’s silenced living-rooms
Pressed to the past
Sweet, soulful past

The wind wails like a wand’ring waif
Or loneliest of men
A wonder-world of echoes chafes
Where no stout heart is spared or safe
From winter’s wilding yen
Or battering of snow-starred strafe
Where none can rend the binding raphe
Twixt now and then
Fixed now and then

Love longs for something out of range
It throbs for more than ‘us’
Caught between all nothing can change
Where fall is bound to rearrange
The walls and halls abuzz
With whispers that seduce-estrange
Always on missions to exchange
‘This is’ to was
What is to was

© Janet Martin


 One of the moodiest, saddest songs I've heard!




Tuesday, November 27, 2018

On Keeping the Courage (for moms)


This applies to dads as well, but because I'm a mom it is written from a mother's vantage-point...
 ...because motherhood is not for the faint of heart!
Her heart fits inside suitcases packed full of clothes and dreams,
it flutters in good-bye waves, 
it is the sparkle in a tear. 
Her heart is shaped into a prayer.



Dear mothers, we would buckle beneath the weight of love
But for daily replenishment from Someone above
Who Fathers the mother who braves unlearned ways
To give to her family the best of her days

Dear mothers, how could we bear the heart-string’s pull
It seems we can never prepare for in full
But for the Father who helps mother-wife
To give to her family the rest of her life

Dear mothers, our mothers have borne this love too
And needed the Father to carry them through
And grant her the strength to give, in joy or strife
The best of her days for the rest of her life

© Janet Martin

Hope's Upraised/Appraised Cup




Low blows and highlights
And show-downs and ups
Run in dawn-twilight
Through hope’s upraised cups

Soulmates and seasons
Succor and surprise
Tug-of heart reasons
With want’s sacred sighs

Darling, the hour
That hangs on the air
Unfolds like a flower
Of whispers and prayer

Take it or leave it
Or love it or not
Hail it or grieve it
Time is all we’ve got

Time to be tender
And humble and true
Time for the splendor
Of each ‘I love you’

Who knows... tomorrow
 Might tip lofty spheres
Of joy turned to sorrow
And laughter to tears 

Treasure-collectors
Of echoes are we
One day full-color
The next...history

...where low-blows and highlights
And showdowns and ups
Flow from dawn-twilight
Through Hope's appraised cup

© Janet Martin

Of Who We Are or Who Are We


 Sometimes when Hubby thinks I'm a little 'set in my ways' he'll shake his head and say,
'They may think they buried your Grandpa F. but they sure didn't bury all of him!'
...and what reply follows, I leave to your imagination😁


 I'm working at getting some summer-fav-photos developed;
My, what an echo world a photo can hold!

Equipped with faith and hope and trust, we combat dread and fear
Knowing that without warning well-laid plans can run awry
But oh, in Whom we place our faith and hope and trust, my dear
Makes all the difference in this world of startling my-oh-my

Time’s tray serves up with touch and taste far more than memories
From hues of Influence and Circumstance’s deft finesse
We become Who We Are and Who We Are, with subtle ease
Becomes part of another person’s strength or brokenness

And this, all hinged upon whereon we fix our faith-hope-trust
Aware that soon Farewell will claim this frame of why-and-how
Aware that soon the grave will snare life’s scaffolding of dust
Aware that Who We Are impacts far more than Here-and-Now

…where faith-hope-trust in He who sees beyond our live-laugh-love
Fills Who We Are with peace where ups and downs of life unwind
The essence of His presence or the hollow lack thereof
As Who We Are begins to shape the lives we leave behind

© Janet Martin